


Revelations

by hannelore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acceptance, Gen, Post-War, Thestrals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4967176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannelore/pseuds/hannelore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flying. There's no need to speak/make noise when you're soaring across the sky. It's an experience like nothing else.  Draco gets a surprise visitor who helps him gain some much-needed acceptance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RZZMG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/gifts).



> For HP Silencio. Many thanks to digthewriter for modding the fest this year and Many thanks to tamlane for being an awesome beta! All other errors are my own.

Draco did not bother to look at the letter his mother handed to him. He could tell by the seal on the envelope where it had come from. Instead, he turned away and left the manor. Staying inside had been maddening, but Shacklebolt had advised it for their safety. Draco knew there had been Aurors stationed nearby the entire time, but he never bothered to look for them and they never seemed to acknowledge the Malfoys. There had been no post delivered except this official decree sparing he and his parents the horrors of Azkaban.

Draco wondered if Azkaban would have been a better place to wait for the verdict. Better a prisoner in the gaol than in one's house. The gorgeous white-plumed peacock turned toward him as he walked down the path. It looked well; perhaps the Aurors had been caring for it. The creature looked away and scurried through a path in the hedgerow as if it had been spooked.

Draco felt anxiety creep into his gut as he scanned the manor's grounds. He could see nothing. His mother had not bothered to follow him outdoors; at least that was a relief. Draco urged his broomstick up into the twilight sky. He almost became unseated for a moment when he shot straight up into the air, but once he evened out he was able to relax a little. Yet he still felt unsteady, as if he were some child riding his broomstick for the first time. This bothered him, too, because he'd never felt _that_ way when he was young. He had always loved flying from the start, and he felt he excelled at it more than anyone else in his year. But at least in the sky, no one now could see him falter. Or at least he hoped not.

Looking down at his home from above, Draco felt the weight of the war fall from him little by little. He took another deep breath but then was nearly knocked from his broom as something flew by him.

Whatever it was moved so quickly, he felt as if he had been knocked aside. Draco searched the sky, but it was difficult to see anything against the dimming sky at twilight. His heart was pounding, and for the first time in Draco's life, he was scared of heights. The manor looked so far away, and he felt a desire to return. He wanted to rip open the envelope and read the letter as if that would promise him everything would be all right.

Instead, he crouched down and forced his broom toward Hogwarts. All this time, he had been plagued by a nagging thought. He needed to go back there, but he still didn't know what for. He hoped that by the time he got there, he would know.

Suddenly, something knocked him completely off his broom. For a brief, terrifying moment he felt nothing but air rushing past him as he fell. But something slid directly underneath him, as smoothly as if he and it were in water. There was no moment of impact or pain and he grabbed wildly for anything to hold onto. There was cool, silky hair underneath his grip -- no, it was a mane. He could hear wings beat the air but when Draco looked down -- his stomach lurched and he closed his eyes -- nothing but ground. The creature was flying faster than Draco had ever managed on a broom; the cold wind whipped his robes. He managed to open his eyes just a little, and for a moment it was as if the vision of the flying horse was there and then gone again.

Draco wracked his brain, trying to think back to that stupid class. Thestrals and death. He had seen death, again and again. Too much of it. He pried his eyes open to look at his own hands, and they seemed to clutch at nothing. But with the next blink, he could see traces of the black, silken mane. His head was pounding, and he wasn't sure whether it was from the speed that they were traveling or the uncertainty. Draco kept his eyes open as best he could and saw they were descending quickly. The steep decline made him hold his breath, and for a split second he felt something completely different.

Draco felt a sudden rush of the pure, innocent thrill that he had experienced when he first learned how to fly. He forced himself to watch the ground rush toward him, leaning into the Thestral's body as if they were about to win a race. It was as if they had suddenly plunged back in time. He grinned as his younger self felt the wind beat against him as it had never before, loving the way it roared in his ears. A hawk diving down toward its prey.

The Thestral touched down to the ground so quickly, with hoofbeats so light, that Draco almost slid right off. It was a graveyard. In front of him was an enormous obelisk with the name CRABBE engraved at the bottom of it. Draco buried his face in the Thestral's mane, but in his sorrow he realized that the horse no longer seemed to weave in and out of his vision. He saw it clearly now. He sat up and wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Draco slid off the Thestral, his legs shaky from how stiffly he had been holding himself during the ride. His broomstick was leaning up against the side of the tomb as if he had left it there himself. His fingers numb with cold, he managed to unpin his house badge from his robes. He placed it on top of Vince's headstone, which seemed so small in comparison to the looming monument of his family name. His hand lingered there for a moment. He closed his eyes and exhaled a slow breath he felt he had been holding for a long time.

Draco took his broom and glanced back at the Thestral. Now that he could see it completely, he could see what an impressive and stately creature it was. He longed for another ride, but perhaps another time. Draco patted the Thestral's flank and mounted his own broom. He wondered -- with a hint of pride -- if he could outfly a Thestral.


End file.
